There was no light in the cell. No Light, either. There was only Kira left, the being beneath a dozen skins. The man once known as Light felt more bare, more stripped, than he ever had before. The raw truth had burned away the final layer, the last mask, and Kira smiled.
Light had wanted Kira, from the start. There had been a progress of transition to it- the light horror, the acceptance, the idea, the excitement, the inspiration, the hope, the urge, the relief, and the hate (for the criminals, for L, for himself).
Light needed Kira now. Kira was his anchor. He pulled him down, but kept him rooted.
Light didn't like depending on things.
Because that was all it was. Kira was a shoulder to lean on- some understanding bastard that Light manipulated and was manipulated by in return. Kira was a mold that Light never quite fit, but the end result was exactly what everyone and no one wanted to see.
A murderer. A maniac. A monster.
Light never had wanted to be simply a Man. He had wanted more- contentment, power, and control. He had played God. Now he wondered if God had played him.
Ryuk lounged in midair beside him, quiet, now. He finally spoke up, trying for a smile. "It'll be boring without you," he supplied meaninglessly. Light already knew it would be. Kira had made so many lives of worth. He had given people, and death gods, their final thrills. A meaning in mortality. But that was gone now.
"Of course," Kira answered for him, words slipping from his mouth like silk. His eyes gleamed red, under a guise of brown. "But you already knew that, Ryuk."
"Better now when things are still exciting," Ryuk laughed. It was all a game to him. Light felt like a pawn, substituting a king.
"Yes," Kira agreed. Light nodded too. Solitary confinement, torture, asylums... anything could have awaited the fallen god. Kira might have survived it, but Light wouldn't. Not alone. And with Kira, he was always alone.
The door creaked open, and Ryuk swiveled round to face it. Matsuda entered, shaking slightly. He thrust a rusty tray at Light, who didn't move.
"Ooh," Ryuk goggled.
Matsuda stared for another moment at Light, before placing down the tray at his feet. His lips read a silent message- I'm sorry. Light didn't raise his head.
"You may as well have it, Ryuk," Light said emptily, as the door echoed shut. He still hadn't looked down to it.
"It's an apple," Ryuk pointed out. "And a note."
Light's head snapped around. "A note?"
Do you know Shinigami love apples?
His shoulders slumped, and he held his face in his hands. Light shook with laughter.
"Your first and last message to each other?" Ryuk asked, amused.
"Fitting, isn't it?"
There was silence again, and Light soundlessly offered the apple to the Shinigami. Ryuk stared at the juicy fruit for a moment; its blood red skin, the drops of water cleansing it, the curved branch at its top. He sighed noisily.
"You can have it."
"Why?" Light eyed him suspiciously. Never had this happened before. And never would it happen again.
"It's your last meal, isn't it?" Goodnight, Snow White.
Light took the apple back, and read the note again. The scribbled Gothic writing could only have belonged to one person. Then, with one last tired act of defiance, he took a swift, elegant bite out of the apple, and set it back down on its plate. He pushed the tray away, lightly, with his heel.
Light sunk back into thought.
They called him a psychopath. A madman. A killer. Kira. They thought he and Kira were the same. They were wrong.
Kira was a god. Light was human. Kira felt nothing. Light felt. Kira destroyed. Light created. Kira killed. Light saved. But Kira hated, and Light loathed. Kira had used this to his advantage, taking Light's perspective of justice and warping it to fit his ideals. Kira couldn't exist without Light, and Light couldn't survive without Kira.
Kira had destroyed Light, just as Light was trying to destroy Kira.
All things considered, he wasn't sure why he had given up. It wasn't as though he hated Kira, but perhaps hated being Kira. The job of the hypocrite was his, though. He killed murderers, as if he wasn't one himself. The hypocrisy was over, now. Light wanted to die in the light, not in Kira. He had fitted the job too well. He might as well retire.
The cell door creaked open again, and Light's ears perked up to the soft padding of naked feet against the stone ground.
"Hello, Kira."
Light didn't glance up, though he wished to. I am not Kira.
"Any last words for me, Kira?" Came the dark monotone. No.
"Kira has nothing to say," he replied dully. "Light has a question though."
"Yes, Light-kun?"
The familiarity of the term might of made him smile. "What time is it?"
There was a pause. "And what if I am not permitted to give Light-kun this information?"
"You are," Light seethed beneath the mask. Ryuzaki... Ryuga... L... they had always managed to unsettle him. Disturb the constancy of his mask. Ripple the opaque pool. "Why wouldn't you be?" He stopped for a moment, and laughed. "Maybe I'm counting down the seconds to your death, L."
L watched him blankly. "Light-kun handed himself in, in which case I fail to see point in my death. Unless Light-kun planned this in order to have a last laugh of sorts... also, I find no need for Light-kun to differentiate between himself and Kira, as they are one."
Light hissed, but covered it with a scoff. "Wrong," he muttered. He cleared his throat, scowling. L had robbed his mask, dangled it in front of him, and worn it as a mockery. "So?"
"It is 8pm, Light-kun."
"Exactly?"
"Apologies, Light-kun. It is 8 oh 1 now."
Light was silent.
"Why am I wrong, Light-kun? I am rarely wrong. There is only a 6.9 percent chance I am incorrect."
"Let's put it this way. Is Kira a killer?"
"Yes."
"Is Kira a psychopath?"
"Yes."
"Am I a killer?"
"Yes."
"Am I a psychopath?"
"... No. Light-kun has a sixty-one percent chance of being a sociopath, though." L explained, expressionless.
"Have you any proof?" Light demanded.
"Well, for starters, Light-kun, you managed to kill a few thousand criminals without stop until now." He didn't stop. Light understood the expansion of respect and loathing would long continue. "You manipulated the second Kira, Misa Amane, into thinking you loved her, as well as Kiyomi Takada. We have reason to suspect you charmed Raye Penber into telling his name, or showing his badge, in order to kill him- a method you excelled at. You nearly fooled the entire Task Force- a group trained to recognize and bring Kira to a standstill. Your family never noticed your indifference and boredom, after all those years. Your teachers, guidance councilors, friends, never called you anything but distant. You yourself think yourself some sort of godly force of justice," L slowly blinked his large, owlish eyes. "Light-kun even temporarily convinced myself of his innocence, and of his friendship."
"Of my friendship?" Light seemed bewildered. "Perhaps," he began sarcastically. "I am such a good liar, I even convinced myself of its existence."
"Perhaps," L agreed. "If Light-kun is correct in his assumption that he and Kira are simply two different sides of a coin, it was Kira that was using me."
"You used me," Light said accusingly.
"We used each other," L allowed.
Light doesn't answer this time. "What time is it?"
L raised an eyebrow. "There's a ninety-five percent chance Light-kun is up to something," he paused, watching for Light's reaction. "8 oh 9."
"What time do I die?" Light asks, calmly, expertly ignoring L's suspicion.
L stared at him, wide black eyes unblinking. "Who said you were going to die, Light-kun?"
"I asked what time, L."
"You don't," Light sucked in a breath, so subtly anyone but L would have missed it. He was surprised, L accepted. He understood that Light had most likely expected immediate death. "You will be deported to a mental asylum, far from the death note and..."
"Far from you," Light finished. He looked tired, L observed, with eyes bordering on panda-like. Somewhat like his own. "I suppose it may as well be such."
L watched him curiously. "Ninety-eight percent chance Light-kun is up to something," he murmured.
"What time is it, L?"
"Light-kun's sudden obsession with such data is unusual. Ninety-nine percent chance Light-kun is up to something. 8: 13."
Light went silent, and L adapted to the voiceless room. Previously their conversation had echoed through the little cell, but now an eerie silence replaced the banter.
"What time am I being deported, L?" Before L spoke, Light read his expression. "8:20," he realized. For such an occasion, Light didn't look all that afraid. L took in the mass-murderer's face for what he knew to be the last time. Light-kun really had reason to be so arrogant, he admitted. He was rather good-looking. He met Light's chocolate eyes, as the killer opened his mouth. "One-hundred percent chance I'm up to something, L," he muttered, and he smirked that god-awful smug twitch of the lips that l had once found so irritating. L felt his big obsidian eyes widen as he realized how close Light's face was to his.
"Light-kun," he said, expressionless. "What are you-" Light's lips met his, and he was cut off. Distantly, he took in the soft sweetness of the offenders. It was gone, though, and perhaps too soon. "Light-kun-" he was interrupted again as Light inhaled sharply.
"Goodbye, L Lawliet." Light choked out, grinning, guiltless, as he slumped to the ground. L's bony knees crashed down beside him, as he investigated the shuddering body.
"8:15," L said, answering the unasked question, feeling his throat clench for reasons he couldn't find.
But Light didn't answer, and L's heart thumped roughly against his chest when he acknowledged that the other never would again. They'd never argue, nor agree, talk, nor play, fight, nor kiss ever again.
And L hears the bells.
Light Yagami
14/05/2015
08:15
Dies of heart attack after confessing to the only person he's ever loved.
I know the date isn't canon, regardless. Unlike most, my favorite character was Light. He just was so unusual in a fascinating way. But L was cool too.